


five avengers laura dated (and one that she married)

by andibeth82



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bisexual Female Character, Dating, F/F, F/M, Really Laura just dates a lot of people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 11:33:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9722456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andibeth82/pseuds/andibeth82
Summary: “You’ll find someone,” she tells herself, staring at the tired face looking back at her in the mirror. “So what if it’s taking a long time? Rome wasn’t built in a day.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for awhile, and I just really love Laura Barton, okay? I will always write all the fic about her.

 

**1\. Natasha Romanoff**

 

“It is a truth universally acknowledged…”

“Oh, please.”

Laura looks up over her glasses at the woman who has interrupted her. “I’m sorry. You were expecting Shakespeare?”

“The reading advertised romance,” says the girl, tossing her long red hair. “This isn’t romance. It’s a lecture of worthless words.”

Laura grinds her teeth together. “I apologize that this isn’t what you came out for. You’re free to leave if this isn’t what you want to hear.”

The girl grins. “Nah, that’s okay. I’ll keep trying to stomach whatever this literary crap is.”

Laura takes a moment to compose herself, then smiles brightly and apologizes to the handful of other people who are sitting patiently before her in the small bookshop. As she continues to read, she tries to ignore the fact that despite her earlier remarks, the girl seems overtly interested, leaning over with her head in her palms and smirking through a curtain of tousled hair.

Laura manages to make it to the end of the second chapter, and acknowledges the faint clapping from those in the front row. She intends to find the girl who interrupted her, but by the time she’s packed up her books, cleaned up the area, and taken the time to look around again, the redhead is nowhere to be seen.

Waving brightly to the woman who owns the shop, Laura drops off the remainder of the baked goods that haven’t been eaten at the counter, and then walks outside, breathing in the cool night air. She starts to walk in the direction of the subway, glancing into the window of the tiny bar next to the bookshop as she turns away.

The girl from her reading is sitting at a barstool. By herself.

Laura stops in her tracks and then looks around, taking a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, she squares her shoulders and pushes open the door, walking purposefully to the bar and dropping her bag on the floor next to the girl.

“Jane Austen.”

“Excuse me?”

“Jane Austen,” Laura repeats. “ _Pride and Prejudice_. _That’s_ the very renowned and important author that you thought wrote some worthless words.”

The girl’s lips don’t part from where they’re wrapped around the rim of her glass, but she manages to smile. “You know your stuff.”

“Of course I know my stuff,” Laura says, sitting down next to her. “I’m only getting my Masters in literature.”

The girl swallows more of her drink and carefully puts it down. “My mistake for making fun of something you clearly love,” she says seriously and quietly, and Laura’s so confused by this whole exchange that she finds herself signaling to the bartender. She doesn’t even _want_ to drink; she has so much work to do when she gets home and she just wants to have something to hold in her hand.

“I’ll take that,” the girl says smoothly, swiping Laura’s glass of white wine before the bartender even puts it on the table. Laura stares at her, open-mouthed and frustrated.

“ _Excuse me_?”

The girl shrugs. “You definitely need something stronger. I guarantee this will be better than your wine.” As she finishes speaking, another glass appears before Laura, this one filled to the brim with a murky looking concoction.

“Trust me, it won’t,” Laura says, eyeing the bathroom and wondering how quickly she can make a getaway if she needs to either puke or call the cops.

“Trust me, it will.”

Laura still feels wary about drinking something that has contents she’s not familiar with, but she tries to tell herself that she was watching the whole time and she couldn’t see how the bartender would put something in her drink. The girl certainly hadn’t -- at least, not to Laura’s eyes.

“I won’t drink it until you tell me your name.”

The girl laughs throatily, crossing her legs. “My name is Natasha. Believe it or not, I’m actually interested in getting to know you.”

Laura thinks about her life -- her small-town upbringing, her seemingly tame social schedule and her straight-A student record -- and frowns. “Why the hell are you interested in getting to know me?”

Natasha grins coyly, and downs her wine. “Let’s just say I work for an unorthodox job.”

Laura dates Natasha for six months, four days, and sixteen hours. She never does find out what Natasha’s “unorthodox job” is, but it never matters. On the day of Laura’s last week of school before the semester ends, she wakes up to an apologetic note, a burner phone, and an envelope literally sealed with a kiss. Inside is a note that says _one day, you’ll never get rid of me_ and a thick wad of cash, enough for Laura to rent out her own apartment so that she doesn’t have to live in a graduate dorm anymore.

 

**2\. Tony Stark**

 

Laura meets Tony Stark while she’s visiting California and meeting potential employers that have been set up by a recruiting company. And she instantly falls for him.

He’s amazingly confident. He’s totally cute. He buys all her drinks and takes her to the hottest clubs in town and picks her up in fancy cars, and Laura doesn’t really _need_ all of those things, but they do make her feel special.

Tony Stark is wonderful and lavish. He even has a heart. But the thing is, Tony Stark is an absolutely terrible houseguest.

He doesn’t clean up after himself. He leaves his wet clothes in the bathroom, and he sometimes works late and doesn’t turn lights off. When he falls asleep in front of the television, she finds crumbs on the floor and open containers of guacamole gone bad.

He tries to make it up to her, and he builds her robots that take care of cooking and cleaning when he can’t take care of himself. Laura appreciates it, but the robots don’t cooperate and often end up in her way as opposed to being helpful. And honestly, for all the good things about Tony Stark (including things that happen in the bedroom), he’s just a r _eally really_ terrible houseguest.

Laura dates Tony for three weeks, five days, and two hours.

“I don’t think this is working out,” Tony admits the day that one of his robots cuts off half of Laura’s long brown mane in her sleep.

“No,” Laura agrees, staring at the robot who is now playing with what was once the hair that took her three years and two months to grow out. “It’s really not.”

 

**3\. Sam Wilson**

 

“You want to talk to that guy,” says the man at the counter, jerking his thumb towards the back of the room. “Name’s Sam.”

 _Sam_. Laura turns the name over and over in her mind. She had done her research, like any good reporter and writer would, but she only had words and names and leads -- no pictures. Laura hoists her bag further up on her shoulder and walks towards the back of the shop, where she can vaguely make out the shape of a well-built dark-skinned man lifting boxes.

“Sam? Wilson?”

Sam grunts and puts a box down, turning around to meet Laura’s eyes. “Yeah? Who are you?”

“My name is Laura,” Laura says, extending her hand. “I was actually hoping to talk to you. For a story.”

“A story, huh?” Sam looks wary. “What story are you looking to do that I could possibly help you with? You wanna know about how to ship fragile items?”

“Not exactly,” Laura says, looking down at her notes. “You were involved in the successful capture of Khalid Khandil in Afghanistan, right? 58th Rescue Squadron?” When she looks up, she finds that Sam’s face is tight and solemn. Laura continues on anyway. “Two tours? United States Air Force? Test pilot for the EXO-7 Falcon?”

“I’m not a pararescue anymore,” Sam says finally, after an even longer pause that almost causes Laura to walk out. He sits down on a box and shrugs. “I’m retired.”

Laura watches him carefully, willing herself not to let her guard down, because that’s not what she’s been taught, and she has a feeling he’s not being entirely truthful. “The papers say otherwise.”

“The papers don’t have any goddamn idea what I went through!” Sam snaps, getting up and walking to the other side of the room. Laura remains where she is, not so much shaken by the abrupt reaction as she is surprised. After a few moments, Sam turns around, rubbing his bare head.

“Look, I’m sorry. You seem really nice. It’s just really hard for me to talk about stuff that happened in my job. It’s personal.”

“It’s not any easier for me,” Laura replies evenly. “I hate being invasive. I just really like journalism and writing and literature. I love trying to get people’s stories out there, because I really believe that they need to be heard. And I’m sorry if I offended you.”

Sam stares at her and smiles slowly, holding out his hand. “Laura, right?”

Laura nods. “Yes.”

Sam shrugs shyly. “I may not be able to give you much for your story, but I can treat you to lunch if you want. Least I can do for your troubles. I mean, you did come all the way out to Bumblefuck, Virginia.”

Laura laughs and shakes Sam’s hand. “It wasn’t such a bad trip," she admits. “And I’m sure there’s some rule about mixing business with pleasure.” She winks. “But I’ve never been much of a rule follower, anyway.”

Laura dates Sam for one month, one day, and twelve hours. She moves home to the Midwest where work is plentiful and rent is cheaper, and Sam elects to stay in Virginia and lead a trauma group at the VA. Laura’s never been one to tell people not to take care of themselves, so she smiles sadly when they realize they’re not going to bother to do the long-distance thing, and hugs Sam for a long time.

Sam promises that he’ll always have her back in some way.

 

**4\. Steve Rogers**

 

Laura gets the email from her college friend and immediately calls her up to complain.

“Laura, come on.” Maria sighs over the phone as she crunches popcorn between her teeth. “You’re worse than me, and I work for a living and never sleep.”

“That’s not fair,” Laura protests. “You have a job I don’t even get to ask you about because everything is classified to the tenth level and then some.”

“And you don’t work that hard, and you’ve been single forever,” Maria responds unapologetically. “Give something a try.”

“I _will_ give something a try,” Laura promises. “But I draw the line at online dating, and I _especially_ draw the line at being set up on blind dates halfway across the country!”

“Look, he’s on his way out from New York, and he’ll only be there a few days. If you hate him, you never have to see him again.”

“I never believe that crap,” Laura grumbles as she hangs up. She paces the room for a good five minutes before sitting down in front of the mirror and staring into her own tired face and messy hair. She’s been broke for days, thanks to putting most of her money into savings, and the amount of work she was doing so that she could continue to pay her bills was allowing her little time to sleep.

“You’ll find someone,” she tells herself. “So what if it’s taking a long time? Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

Two glasses of wine and one personally rolled joint later, she feels better enough to at least contemplate taking Maria up on her offer. She makes a fresh cup of coffee before sitting down at her computer again and sending off an email, confirming that she’ll meet this mystery man from New York at a diner near her house at the end of the week.

Laura doesn’t expect to walk into the diner in a cute little dress and see the man who she recognizes as _Captain Freaking America_ sitting awkwardly in the corner booth.

“Please tell me this is as strange for me as it is for you,” Steve says after introducing himself, all gentleman and poise. Laura swallows, trying to figure out how to respond.

“If you mean strange because my friend set me up on a blind date with a superhero and didn’t tell me who I was even meeting, then yes. It’s very strange.”

Steve laughs quietly. “At least let me buy you coffee,” he says apologetically, and Laura tries not to stare at the way his chocolate brown motorcycle jacket hugs his body far too nicely. “So Maria Hill is your friend?”

“College roommate,” Laura corrects. “But she left halfway through our program. We stayed close anyway, because saving one another from skeevy men on the first day of freshman year will do that to you.” She pauses as she takes off her coat. “I assume that motorcycle outside is yours. Just passing through?”

Steve smiles. “Yeah, kind of. I guess you could say I’m looking for the next big thing. It’s kind of nice not knowing what’s next.”

Laura smiles back, her cheeks growing hot. “Hey, do you mind if I use the restroom quickly? I promise I’m not going to leave randomly or anything.”

“I trust you.” Steve nods towards the counter. “I’ll get the coffee and maybe some pie, if you want.”

“Cherry,” Laura decides as she gets up, leaving her coat and purse on the booth seat. When she’s finally closed the door to the bathroom, she takes out her phone and punches in a number on speed dial. Surprisingly (or maybe not, her schedule was always in flux), Maria picks up on the second ring.

“You didn’t tell me...what the _hell_? _Captain America_?!”

Maria snorts on the other end of the line. “And you can’t date Captain America?”

Laura grits her teeth together. “Maria. I don’t. Date. Superheroes.”

Laura dates Steve for one week, six days, and five hours. She’s not surprised or upset when he leaves, because she knows it’s nothing more than a fling, but Steve’s the nicest and most interesting guy she’s dated in years and she’s kind of sad to see him go.

Besides, she figures Maria is right. It’s not like she’ll ever see him again, anyway.

 

**5\. Sharon Carter**

 

Laura meets Sharon during a vacation to Key West, when she unexpectedly picks up her book in the wrong cabana. She apologizes immediately, because she doesn’t want to seem like she’s causing trouble, and Sharon brushes her apology off with a wave of her hand and a toss of her blonde hair after she introduces herself.

“You can keep it if you want. I mean, if I can keep yours.” Sharon eyes Laura’s faded copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ and Laura nods, handing it over.

“I don’t mind. It’s actually kind of a re-read for me,” Laura admits. “I like to look at chapters and stuff when I need something familiar.”

Sharon grins wickedly. “How many times have you read it, then?”

“Don’t ask.” Laura grins back, and Sharon winks.

“Maragritas are on me.”

Laura’s caught off guard, because she definitely hadn’t even entertained the idea of trading more than four polite words with this girl. But she’s never one to turn down free alcohol, especially when it came from someone attractive, so she accepts Sharon’s offer and ends up talking to her for hours while lounging by the pool.

Four margaritas later, delirious and happy and somewhat drunk, she also ends up kissing Sharon and making out on the beach.

“You know, you hold your liquor pretty well,” Sharon comments when they take a break from kissing. “You’d get along with the guys at my job. They’re pretty hardcore when it comes to happy hour. All that undercover work and stuff.”

“What are you, a cop?” Laura asks mildly, proud of herself for only slurring her letters slightly because she’s had more tequila than she’s had in years.

“Nah. I work for a place called SHIELD.”

“SHIELD?” Laura can’t stop laughing suddenly, because the name sounds so ridiculous and, well, she _is_ drunk. “Oh my god, that’s amazing. I hope they pay you well there.”

“They pay me well enough to take a long vacation to Key West,” Sharon says, pushing a lock of hair away from Laura’s forehead. “Hey, maybe one day you’ll work with them and show them how hardcore you are.”

“Mmmm.” Laura squints at Sharon’s face in the dark. “Can you date co-workers? Because the way this night is going, that might complicate things.”

Laura dates Sharon for two months, eleven days, and seven hours. They break up due to a fight because Laura worries too much about Sharon’s well being, but they make up after a week or so and decide they can’t get rid of their friendship. Laura still texts her for margarita dates every time she’s in New York or D.C.

 

**+1 Clint Barton**

 

The one good thing about Sharon breaking up with Laura is that when Maria Hill comes to her friend, sits her down, and finally tells her what she does for a living and how there’s an opening that fits her skills and interest, Laura realizes she can totally work there without being compromised.

“I don’t even have a degree in anything that SHIELD does,” Laura says after Maria explains why she should be interested.

“Laura, no one at SHIELD has a degree in anything they do there,” Maria replies in exasperation, taking one of Laura’s homemade muffins from the table. “Besides, special ops is different. And you’re so well known in your field and with your published work --”

“Not about _spies_ ,” Laura points out. “This is worse than the time you set me up on a date with Captain America.”

Maria shrugs. “I figured it couldn’t hurt. Besides, he was hot, right?”

“Ugh.” Laura buries her head in her hands. “I swear to god, if you try to set me up with some secret agent person superhero, I’ll kill you.”

“I promise I won’t,” Maria says, drawing an exaggerated _x_ over her heart as Laura lifts her head and rolls her eyes.

Laura works at SHIELD for almost three months before she meets Clint Barton, in the cafeteria lunch line of all places, while reaching for an orange.

“Oh, shit -- I mean, sorry --” He stumbles over his words, almost dropping the orange on the floor. Laura manages to catch it, offering it up to him.

“Off day for your reflexes?”

Clint laughs harshly, putting the orange on his tray. “That’s funny.”

“Why would it be funny?” Laura asks, feeling puzzled.

Clint laughs again, the rusty lawnmower-esque sound echoing through the cafeteria. “Because you don’t know who I am.”

“I know exactly who you are,” Laura replies with a small smile, eyeing his half-shaven goatee. “You’re Clint Barton, also known as Hawkeye. And before you try to hit on me even more, I’ve already heard all the jokes about being shot in the heart with arrows, thank you very much.”

Clint’s eyebrows rise up and then lower slowly, until his forehead is crinkling so much that she can’t tell where the lines begin and the worry creases end.

“If I promise to leave all my arrows at home, can I interest you in dinner? Maybe at my place, if you’re not too turned off by the fact it’s really messy and I have a dog?”

“I like dogs,” Laura replies, taking the orange off his tray. “And dinner sounds good.”

Laura dates Clint for five months, six days, and three hours.

One day, after coming home from a job in Russia that he can’t exactly tell her about, he gets down on one knee and asks her to say _I do_.

Laura doesn’t date ever again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me and more of my writing and flails on tumblr @isjustprogress.


End file.
